


Weekdays With You

by deltachye



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, He's so cute, High School, Reader-Insert, he's .... above the age of majority in current timeline, therefore i'm not a cougar. LMFAOOOOO
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:35:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23281855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltachye/pseuds/deltachye
Summary: [classmate!reader x juza hyodo]You're the only idiot that's been stupid enough to get close to him.
Relationships: Juza Hyodo/Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 155





	1. monday

Everybody knows to steer clear of Juza Hyodo, except for her.

He hadn’t the slightest clue who she was when she walked up to his desk. They were in the same homeroom, because he knew her by face, but he’d long since lost touch with keeping up pretenses and names. She was average looking and the nice type who didn’t really stick out, having a small circle of friends and a diligent academic record. Despite this, his heart seemed to stop when she said, softly,

“Hyodo-san?”

He looked up, startled, having been spacing off with his arms crossed. The bell for lunch had tolled and he was committed to spending the break sitting around silently, like he’d always done. But she was standing in front of him, smiling awkwardly, seeming unaware of the panicked stares her classmates were giving her.

“I noticed you don’t have a lunch. It’s not much, but I had this chocolate bar. It might be melted… but you can have it.”

She was already holding it out, the green wrapper shiny in the sun’s rays. He swallowed thickly, not having a planned reaction for this scenario.

“It’s fine.”

“Oh. Well… you shouldn’t go hungry. I’ll just leave it here, okay?” She placed it on the corner of his desk gently and flashed another smile. “See you later, Hyodo-san.”

“Wait,” he blurted out, and immediately hated himself for it. He should’ve just let her go on her merry way, her act of charity done and forgotten. But she turned around, face expectant.

“What’s your name?” he asked, strained, now that he’d dug himself a grave.

“[Surname] [Name]. Call me whatever.”

“…right, okay.”

She walked off back to her friends who whispered urgently. He ignored their glares and stared at the Kit-Kat sitting on his desk. [Surname]. It was the first classmate he actually knew the name of, and he had a dreadful feeling he would never be able to forget it.


	2. tuesday

He wasn’t sure how to approach her, so he just bit the bullet and walked over to her desk before he could regret it. He was fully aware of all the eyes shooting bullets in his back, and no matter how much he hunched over he couldn’t seem to make himself small enough.

“Um, [Surname]. San.”

“Oh, Hyodo-san? What’s up?”

She closed her notebook and pulled a headphone out of her ear, having been working on something. He’d never really felt this shy before but stomped down his emotions to drop the cans he’d been cradling onto her desk. She looked at them strangely.

“I didn’t know what you liked,” he tried to explain, stupidly. “So I got them all. As thanks. …bye.”

He spun on his heel to leave. With the humiliation burning on his cheeks he had no intention to stay for the rest of class. But she stopped him, and when he looked back, expecting a scowl of disgust—she was smiling.

“You really got me every drink in the vending machine, huh.”

“Um.” He had no reply—it was kind of obvious. His eyes flicked to the side. 

“D’you want to sit?”

It was an odd request. He’d never gotten that from somebody outside of his own family before. Shyly, he shuffled forwards and sat down, not knowing how to say ‘no’ without sounding rude.

“Hm… Calpis, Pocari Sweat, green tea… ah, there it is.” She picked something out and turned the label so that he could see. “Sakura flavoured milk tea. This is my favourite! Guess you were right on the mark, huh?”

“Okay.” The cutesy pink design suited her, he thought. It was spring themed and refreshing to look at.

“Which one do you like?”

“Huh? Oh. Anything’s fine…”

“I think you’re a coffee guy. Am I right?”

She rearranged the drinks on her desk, looking at the cans studiously. Surprising himself, he shook his head, and she noticed sharply.

“So you _do_ have a preference.”

“I, uh.” He scratched his jaw, feeling it itch hotly. Unable to trust himself to speak or even make eye contact, he reached out and spun the melon soda to face her. She blinked and nodded wisely, and he was glad she didn’t make fun of him.

“I didn’t think you were into sweet things like that.” She pushed it across the table towards him. Noticing his expression, she said wryly, “you’ve got to share at least one drink with me. I’ll have a diabetic coma if I try to finish all of these at once.” 

“…sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she laughed, and the sound drummed on his heart. “This is really sweet of you.”

She struggled to turn the cap on her drink. Without thinking he reached out. She passed it to him obligingly, and the coolness of the container calmed him down to recollect his thoughts. He cranked the cap open and handed it back, but nearly dropped it on her when her hand brushed his own.

“Huh… you’re really strong, Hyodo-kun.”

She’d dropped the -san to a -kun. It was nice to hear, actually. There’s a first for everything these days. Gruffly, he shook his head and popped open his own drink. She held her milk tea out.

“Cheers,” she insisted when he stared at it. 

“Oh. Cheers.”

The metal and plastic clinked together gently, and she grinned so dazzlingly that he almost went blind.


	3. wednesday

He didn’t expect to talk to her three days in a row, but she was already sitting in the seat in front of him before he could do anything about it.

“So, don’t make fun of me or anything, but I made way too much food last night and could really use a hand getting rid of it.” She put her lunch on the table and opened a second container, filled with rice and vegetables and steak. She clapped her hands together. “I humbly request your assistance, Hyodo-kun.”

“Um… if you say so.” How could he turn down a plea for help like that? He accepted the bento, but then noticed that she had also packed a second pair of chopsticks. When she opened her own lunch, he studied the two of them, and his definitely had more in it than hers.

“You didn’t make this for me specifically, did you?”

She blinked rapidly when he asked, accusatory but also hesitant. Shyly, she averted her gaze, her chopsticks hovering in the air.

“…no…” It was as much of an admission of guilt as a ‘yes’.

“You didn’t have to,” he replied exasperatedly. 

“I know, but you never have food with you at lunch. I got a bit worried.”

“I didn’t ask.” He flinched after he said it. That sounded mean and ungrateful. Would it drive her away? But it rolled off of her like water and she tapped on the edge of his box dismissively.

“If you won’t eat for yourself, at least eat for me. Everybody needs to be nourished to do their best. Also, my cooking’s not _that_ bad.”

“Fine.” To appease her, he took a reluctant bite. The sesame oil was flavourful, and everything was cooked well and had a good texture. It wasn’t that much of a surprise that she was talented, but apparently, he looked so shocked that she rolled her eyes at him.

“See? It’s not poisoned. Eat up, Hyodo-kun.”

“…thanks.” They ate quietly for a bit. He looked over to her usual seat, which was forwards four and to the right by three. Her friends, whom he recognized by face, were whispering in a circle and kept stealing glances over at them. When one accidentally made eye contact with him, she hurriedly turned away.

“You can go back to your seat if you want,” he offered, wondering if she felt awkward sitting here in silence with him when her own friends were right over there. “It’s fine.”

“What? But we’re eating together.”

“But—”

“Say _ah_ , would you?”

“Sorry?” 

“Say _ah_.” She glared at him.

“…ah… mmfghk?!”

She’d shoved a floret of broccoli into his mouth with her own chopsticks. Satisfied, she grinned smugly as he stared at her, gagged by a vegetable.

“We’re friends too, y’know. You don’t have to sell yourself short every time.”

He chewed quietly. Friends? He’d never had those before. What do you do with a friend? What do you do with a friend whose smile makes your chest tight and your breaths come in short and painful? 

Eat lunch together, apparently. Though it was nice to have the company.


	4. thursday

Getting suspended from school was a regular occurrence, but this time, it really frickin’ sucked. Of course, his family had given him the same old disappointed talking to, but that didn’t matter—he couldn’t go to class, so he couldn’t see [Surname]. That dumb girl had probably made a second lunch again and he wouldn’t even be there. Just imagining the confused expression on her face hurt him.

He shouldn’t have floored that Hana High kid. But he’d gotten so used to defending himself that he didn’t know how to lay off the gas pedal. Juza wondered what she was thinking of him right now. The teacher was probably telling the whole class in that conspiratorial tone about him. How he’d done a _bad thing_ … like always. Maybe she’d finally realize he was no good and leave him alone, the way she should’ve the first time around. It’s not like he was dying for her to be scared of him like everybody else was, but this way she could have peace of mind.

Right?

Try outs for Mankai Company’s Autumn Troupe were coming up. He’d been on the fence after seeing his cousin perform. On one hand it might be good for him. On the other, he was… scared. He sucked shit at acting, for one, but for two—what if people still didn’t accept him even after he became somebody else? What if he was stuck as the same old guy?

Her face just kept floating to mind no matter how actively he tried not to think about her. He’d like to know what she thought about it and ask her if he should go try out or not. Her opinion actually meant a lot to him these days. Even passing comments like “I like your dog tags”—he hadn’t gone a single day without wearing them after that. She’d probably say something laden with common sense, like “you’ll never know if you don’t try”. But maybe she’d smile or touch his hand in reassurance. He looked down at the knuckles, the skin torn raw. That guy had put up a bigger fight than the usual lackies and the violet-red bruises stung. No way; she could never see this side of him.

But still, he’d change: both for him and for her.


	5. friday

“Ju-ch—er, Juza.”

“Oh, Muku.” Juza looked up from his phone at his younger cousin, who walked up to him meekly. “What is it.”

“Your mom asked me to go to your school to pick up your homework… since it’s on the way back for me.”

“Really?” He sighed, annoyed. His mother was always meddling. “You didn’t have to do that. Sorry.”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” Muku waved off. “I didn’t mind. But it’s just that somebody else already got your work for you.”

“What?” That was strange—did the teacher just decide to hold onto whatever worksheets there were? Or maybe she just didn’t believe that he and Muku were blood relatives. They didn’t exactly resemble each other, after all. Muku shrugged.

“Your teacher said to talk to a [Surname] [Name] to pick them up.”

His heart dropped to his feet. He felt his face knit together into a scowl. “Say that again.”

“What? Oh—[Surname] [Name]. You know her, right?”

“Yeah,” he stammered back, suddenly at a minimal brain capacity. “I guess so. She’s my classmate.” 

“Okay… well, let me know if I can do anything else for you.” Muku nodded and walked away, leaving him to steam on the couch. Why had she picked up his coursework? It wasn’t like she could drop them off for him. Was she trying to hold something over his head?

Or maybe she just cared about him—but no, that couldn’t be.


	6. monday

“Hyodo-kun, you’re back!” 

She was the first to address his entry, despite his very careful attempt to slide into the classroom unnoticed. He winced as people turned to stare. Great—this girl really had no sense of tact.

“[Surname],” he replied awkwardly, skirting his gaze.

“I’ve got the homework you missed. It’s in my bag.”

“Thanks.” He didn’t know what else to say. If he tried to insist that she could quit doing him favours, she’d hit him back tenfold and bake him a cake with his face on it or something. She walked to her desk and rummaged through her schoolbag. Unsure of what to do, he tailed her and stood around, looking lost. 

“The teacher was all like, _don’t get involved with that guy…_ everybody thinks you’re a real punk, y’know?”

He knew full well. He’d gotten suspended for beating the shit out of another student, after all. There was nothing he could think of to reply back that wouldn’t sully his own reputation while being truthful, so he said nothing at all.

“Here.” 

He took the papers from her after she pulled them out of a neat looking folder. She didn’t seem to be finished and looked up at him thoughtfully.

“If you want, we can go through them later. It’s kind of hard to catch up when you’ve been away for a few days.”

It was a strange offer. Not even his teachers had bothered offering extra hours to him, figuring his decent marks were a good enough achievement for the delinquent in the back. He didn’t think he’d ever studied with anybody before and wasn’t even sure how that would work. He relayed this thought and she smiled, leaning against her desk to face him.

“The library’s open after hours. I’ve got a club after school today, but tomorrow I’m all yours. Does that sound good?”

It did. It sounded very, very good. But he squashed his heart to keep it from leaping into his throat and nodded distantly instead.

“Let me get your phone number then. Just in case you need to get a hold of me or something.”

He could imagine no scenario in which he’d have the balls to contact her first but handed his phone over anyways. She made quick work with her thumbs and spun it right back. He glanced down: **+81-905-5580-334 [name]**

“We’re on a first name basis now?” he blurted out without realizing, his eyes catching. She shrugged, suddenly looking shy.

“I don’t mind… unless you’re still just comfortable with Hyodo-kun?”

“No. Uh. Juza’s… fine. If you want.”

Relief wiped her expression clean and she smiled. “Sweet. See you tomorrow, Juza.”

“Yeah… [Name].”

She sat in her chair and he staggered back to his own seat. His heart was thrumming wildly in his chest, chasing hot red blood to his toes to his scalp. Kazunari had asked who his first love had been. Juza was starting to think he knew.


	7. tuesday

“You’re actually pretty smart, aren’t you?”

He looked up from his paper, surprised to hear her say something like that. He didn’t think he’d ever gotten that praise once, though he heard it spoken around him all the time—classmates cheering each other on, complimenting others on making it to the top of the board. [Name] peered up at him curiously.

“I do pretty good in history,” he admitted, sheepishly. 

“You’ve got really pretty hand writing too. Mine’s way uglier.” She put her sheet next to his to compare. He didn’t see any glaring flaws, but hers did scrawl a bit more than his own. It had its own style to it that seemed to suit her personality, but the frown on her face showed what she thought about it.

“I do brush calligraphy.”

“Seriously?! You’re full of surprises, Juza. What’s next? You sing like an angel?” She laughed to herself, but he felt the heat tickle at the underside of his jaw. Would ‘acting’ be too far out there? Would she laugh if she knew?

“I think your handwriting looks fine. And your grades are better than mine.” Now that he could recognize her name so well, he realized just how high she’d been ranking on the board postings. She’d never dipped below Top Ten, which was an impressive feat.

“Maybe, but you don’t really need my help after all, do you? Sorry for offering it up like that. I must’ve seemed like a bit of an asshole.”

The fear ticked like a primed bomb in his chest. If she thought that, would she abandon him? His tongue twisted in his mouth as he tried to figure out what to say without sounding desperate or stupid. He wanted her to stay.

“I wouldn’t mind studying together after school. Together. If you have nothing else to do.” It was choppy, desperate, and stupid. He tried not to wince.

“Hm.” She tapped her pencil to her lips before nodding—Oh, thank God. “Yeah, I’ll take you up on that. It’s nicer to work with somebody than alone in my room.”

It was embarrassing to acknowledge the enormous sweep of relief that rushed through him when he heard it. But then he noticed a puzzled expression on her face, realizing that she had started staring.

“What?”

“…you’ve got a cute smile for somebody who doesn’t smile much.” She grinned to herself and then looked down, pulling a textbook into her lap. Quietly, she begun to read, but he could tell that her eyes weren’t moving. If he was strong enough, he’d say ‘you too’. But he’d work up the nerve for that another day.


	8. wednesday

“Juz—huh?”

“Agh!”

He jumped, dropping his script onto the floor in a flurry of papers. [Name] had somehow manifested front of him while he was walking through the hallway, scaring the shit out of him.

“Sorry. I thought you saw me coming.” She knelt to help scoop things up. His senses came back to him far too late. Mortified, he dropped to his knees and tried to yank everything together before she could see, but it was too late.

“ _The Roman Episode_ …?”

Great. He was outed. Unable to come up with a decent lie better than ‘that’s not mine’, he looked away.

“Yeah,” he muttered sheepishly. “I’m in a troupe.”

“Jeez—and you never told me? That’s awesome!”

She was so enthusiastic it almost blew him off his feet. She reached for the other sheets he was hugging to his chest, and he was powerless to defend them from capture.

“It’s a play about gangs, huh? Wow. That’s pretty fitting. Who are you playing?”

“Um. Lanksy.” He felt like he was closer to God’s arms with each of her questions. But her face was non-judgemental—far from it. She looked genuinely excited.

“You’re a lead… damn. I never would’ve guessed that you’d be into theatre.” Finally, she passed him his script back, which he held onto with an iron grip.

“Is it that weird?”

“Well, it’s a bit weird, but it’s a good kind of weird. I’d like to see you perform. You’ve got to invite me. Is your show coming up?”

“Uh… in a bit. I’ll talk to my Director once she brings up tickets and stuff.”

“D’you need help practicing?” she continued eagerly as they both stood up, having been kneeling together for a weirdly long amount of time. “I took a theatre class that I hated in middle school, but I can read lines and stuff with you.”

“You’d actually want to do that?” he asked, skeptical and surprised. She nodded, beaming at him.

“It’d be fun to see a new side of you.”

Her smile made warmth blossom across his body and he stared at his toes, afraid to look anywhere else. He couldn’t say no when she said something like that. 

“I guess I can get another copy of the script.”

“I can just read off of yours with you. Ah—only if you want, though. I don’t want to pressure you if you don—”

“No,” he interjected hastily. “That’s fine. I appreciate it.” He felt the need to say something else before a chorus of gasps erupted at the end of the hall, interrupting his train of thought.

“It’s Tenma-kun!”

Tenma? He rounded the corner just as he looked over to study the commotion. Spying Juza, who always stood out sorely, Tenma casually waved.

“’Sup.”

Feeling awkward with all these people staring at him, he stiffly nodded back. “Osu.”

Tenma left, continuing on his way. People followed, but not before giving him _that_ kind of look. A sudden punch demanded his attention and he rubbed his arm sorely, turning back to his companion.

“You’re buddy-buddy with Sumeragi Tenma?!” [Name] gasped in disbelief. “What else are you hiding from me?!”

“He’s also in the theatre company with me,” he explained gruffly. A tinge of something pricked at his ribcage. Did she care about him the way the fawny girls tailing the carrot head did, too? Great. There was no way he could compete with a hotshot like that. In the end he always lost—

“Man. You’re some kinda player, Ju-ju.”

He blinked. 

“Ju… ju?”

“Oh. That’s what I put your contact as in my phone. I think it’s funny to have a nickname for a guy like you. …sorry if that’s weird.”

Was she channeling Kazunari’s free, goofy spirit right now? But her face was so earnest and shy that he suddenly lost all qualms and nodded.

“It’s okay.” She could call him anything and he’d be happy to comply.

“Hey, read me me one of your lines. I wanna hear.”

“U-uh, okay…”

So focused on her, he didn’t notice the glare on his back.


	9. thursday

Despite his frame and his, uh, _overwhelming_ aura, Juza had gotten pretty good at being a wallflower. It was surprising how often he went overlooked, startling people when he made his presence known. He was currently sitting at the café where Tsuzuru was working, practicing the memorization of his lines with a drink in front of him. Two people from his school sat nearby, their green and black uniforms recognizable in the corner of his eye.

“Have you heard of our senpai, [Surname]-san?”

He froze, stunned to hear such a familiar name in a place like this.

“She’s one of the club leaders, right?”

“Yeah. My friend told me she’s hooking up with a gangster.”

“What?! No way. She looks so nice.”

“There’s this other third year that’s a total thug. Apparently, a teacher caught them doing it in a bathroom. That’s why she stopped coming to meetings after school. They got detention.”

“The bathroom?! Gross…”

He stood up abruptly. His heart was racing and pounding in a way it hadn’t for a while after he’d vowed to change. It was worse than it was getting up on that stage in front of Yuzo’s crowd to recite his portrait. Unable to stop himself, he wheeled around and marched over, slamming his hand down on the table. 

“Where did you hear that?” he all but snarled, unable to keep his temper under wraps when all he could think about was [Name]. The girl shrieked in fear, clinging onto her friend’s arm.

“I-I don’t know, I just heard it… don’t hurt us, please.”

“Well, it’s not—”

“Juza!” 

Tsuzuru’s familiar voice was behind him and suddenly he was hauled backwards by arms looped beneath his own. Tsuzuru’s clear blue eyes admonished him in a trained older brother way. “What are you doing?” he demanded.

“I’ve got to go,” Juza muttered, grabbing his papers in a fistful and marching out the door. He heard the tail end of Tsuzuru’s apology to the girls as he hit the pavement. He wasn’t sure where he was running—he just needed to move to blow off the hot steam whirling in his head. How could people be saying that about such a kind person? Did they have no shame?

He ran so far that he ended up losing his way before getting tired. Heaving air into his burning lungs, he knew it was his fault. It was because of him that she was getting trash-talked like this. _He_ was used to it, but there was no way _she_ deserved that. 

Their days had to be cut short, for her sake; there’d be no happy weekend for them.


	10. friday

“Uh… Hyodo, right?”

“What’s it to you.”

His days had been darker and bleaker ever since he begun to avoid her. She kept trying to talk to him, but he’d cut her off as coldly as possible. If she hated him it’d be easier for her to stay away. He’d ditch and run if he had to. It’d been something like a week now and the lonely chasm hadn’t grown any smaller. Looking down, he recognized the girl in front of him—it was one of _her_ friends.

“[Name]-chan needs you.”

“Yeah, well, tell her to piss off.” He looked away guiltily. The girl didn’t budge.

“She’s… I’m scared she’s in danger of hurting herself. She won’t let any of us in except for you.”

“What?” His head nearly snapped as he looked back, his heart frozen in its prison of ribs. “What the hell is wrong with her?”

“I dunno,” the girl muttered tearfully, clenching her fists. “But you’re the only one she’ll talk to, so please…”

Of course he would book it after hearing that! His plan was flying straight out of the goddamn window right now. All he could think about was _her_.

Apparently, there was an empty office in the library that she’d locked herself into. Terrifying images raced through his head. Stupid, stupid girl, you—

“[Name],” he hollered, slamming on the locked door. He grit his teeth. “It’s me. Let me in!”

The door clicked open unexpectedly and he nearly toppled inside, having been leaning too hard. After catching his balance, he saw her at the door, guarding the knob behind her back. His eyes tracked over her in a frenzy. She didn’t look visibly hurt.

“Finally,” she said, her face set in a scowl. “I can’t believe I had to trap you for you to talk to me.”

“Trap…” He looked around. It was just a normal room. He looked at her—she looked normal, and she hadn’t moved from the door. It clicked.

Damn. Her friend had real acting skills.

“Screw off, [Name],” he grumbled, annoyed at himself for falling for it. He moved to push her away from the door, but she had her feet planted and shook her head. He couldn’t actually touch her after his threat was disarmed, and she seemed to know it. 

“Why are you avoiding me?” she asked, stately and calm.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he spat. “I’m no good. And I’m sick of you. So move on already, you clingy…” He didn’t have the heart to continue and left it at that, attempting to channel the menacing gangster he projected himself as. The Lanksy she’d wanted to see on stage—the one he’d wanted to show her. She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Is it because of what people have been saying about me?”

Dead on the ringer. He kept his mouth shut, but his silence painted guilty over his face clear as day. She shrugged nonchalantly.

“You know I don’t care, right?”

She was stepping forwards. If he wanted to, he could leave, now, the exit left vulnerable. But he _didn’t_ want to. He let her keep walking forwards and forwards towards him, his body heavy in place like he was stuck there.

“You should,” he mumbled quietly, but the fight had died in him. “You’ve got a rep to maintain.”

“If I cared about that, I wouldn’t have given you a chocolate bar. I wouldn’t have tried so hard to get close to you. I did all that because I was interested in you, and because I only care about _you_.” She scoffed and reached forwards. Jumping, he felt her touch first before realizing what she was doing. His skin burnt with the contact.

“Why?” he asked, now pained. “You _know_ better.”

“God, Juza, do I really have to spell it out for you?” She sighed disgruntledly, palming her hands through her hair. “I want to be friends with you. No matter what people say about you, or me, I _like_ you. You’re always kind to me. You’re always… I don’t know. I just miss you, so can you quit with the tough guy act? You’re not actually a gangster, y’know.”

Listening to her felt like she was speaking for years. It echoed. Reverberated like pewter bells in a church. _I like you. I miss you_. No goddamn way was this happening—was this some pity dream? He appeared to be gaping in silence for so long that she got fed up, reaching forwards. Numbly he watched her face come closer and her arm raise upwards…

“Ow!” 

She’d flicked him in the forehead hard enough to sting. He recoiled and held his skin, and when he opened his eyes he saw her smile.

“Capiche?”

“You’re not going to give up, are you,” he sighed.

“Nope! Glad we’re finally on the same page.”

He rolled his eyes, but it was surrender. She had won. Noticing his expression, she grinned, clearly pleased with herself. Digging a pointy elbow in his side, the teasing was relentless.

“You came running for me? Aren’t you my knight in shining armour? Ju-ju, you’re such a funny guy, even when you were trying to ignore me.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever…”

But he was so, so glad.

“Um, so.” He remembered what had been on his mind and turned away, feeling the heat rise up his cheeks in waves. “I got a ticket for you. For my show later. If you still want to come.”

“Seriously?!” She pulled back, her smile wide. “Yeah; of course I do, dummy.”

Before he could pussy out, he spoke the words he had wanted to for so long, just so that they were in the air and he couldn’t take them back.

“And. If you’re free, there’s a café that serves sakura milk tea… if you want to go.”

Her eyes moved back and forth between the two of his. He felt so undone and pierced by this gaze that seemed to know all. Then she smiled, softly, the mischief fading away.

“Are you asking me out on a date, Hyodo Juza?”

Where was Nanao’s idiocy when you needed it? Sakyo-san’s cool, level headed confidence? Omi’s unshakable optimism? Settsu’s… er, God Complex headassery? God dammit. He sucked in a deep breath.

“…yes?”

Apparently, she wasn’t yet done with her surprises, and wrapped her smaller arms around one of his. Her head leant against his arm and she squeezed it in a hug. When he stared down at her in shock, she looked back up at him, fondly and with adoration.

“I’d be happy to. Let’s go out on the weekend, too.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LUV HIMMMMMMMMM omfg. autumn troupe story KILLEDT. ME.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: https://deltachye.tumblr.com/


End file.
